


Orderly Fashion

by karasunovolleygays



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2021 [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Post-Nationals, Ushijima is a good boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29065425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: If there was one thing that got on Yachi Hitoka’s nerves, it was willful disorder. Not ‘this was a disorderly person and disorder was sure to follow them everywhere’, but more along the lines of ‘this person/place/thing was orderly and someone came along and messed it up for no good reason’. The latter was the scene that greeted Yachi as she walked into the stationery store close to home.She certainly didn't expect Ushijima Wakatoshi to come to the rescue.
Relationships: Ushijima Wakatoshi/Yachi Hitoka
Series: Valentine's Kisses 2021 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087100
Comments: 12
Kudos: 58





	Orderly Fashion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadehqknb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/gifts).



> Kiss prompt: one sliding their hand into the other’s hair slowly

If there was one thing that got on Yachi Hitoka’s nerves, it was willful disorder. Not ‘this was a disorderly person and disorder was sure to follow them everywhere’, but more along the lines of ‘this person/place/thing was orderly and someone came along and messed it up for no good reason’. 

The latter was the scene that greeted Yachi as she walked into the stationery store close to home, a place where she lingered on hard, frustrating days because the walls of neatly placed merchandise brought a sense of peace.

On his hands and knees scraping up the mess was the store’s owner, a tiny old man named Komida, who was barely a few centimeters taller than she was. Yachi tossed her book bag onto a nearby office chair display and dropped to the floor to help. “Komida-san, was it those boys again?”

Komida nodded wearily. “They were here about half an hour ago. I wish they’d take their creativity for destruction and turn it into something useful.” He dumped an armload of staplers knocked from their shelves into a handbasket and stood, his entire face pinched as he straightened out. “I'm too old for this nonsense.”

Yachi continued corralling the wayward merchandise, motions snappish as she grumbled, “Everyone old enough to  _ talk  _ is too old for this nonsense.”

“Hitoka-chan, you really don’t have to do that,” Komida said when Yachi stuck her arm under the shelf base to fish out the rest. “But I appreciate it nonetheless.”

The expedition turned up two stray staplers and a small pile of pens, no doubt from the aisle over. She handed the stapler to Komida but hung onto the pens. “I would help even if this weren’t my favorite place in the whole world.” 

Yachi cast a tight smile and headed around the shelving unit to take in the no doubt uglier scene waiting in an aisle full of easily-displaced hanging items. 

No matter how bad she thought it would be, it was that much worse in reality. “Oh no.” Pens, pencils, highlighters, markers, erasers, and everything in between lay strewn like some great vacuum had sucked them all from their place and dropped them on the floor. 

Tears pricked in her eyes as she stared at the wreckage, and she had to look away. Gathering a few more handbaskets, Yachi started sorting out the disaster into bins of like items, putting them back where they belonged, and going back for more. And there was certainly more.

Her knees were already aching when a large shadow hovered over her. “Komida-san, I’m not going home until this is cleaned up.”

A voice that definitely did not belong to an old man answered. “MIss, are you all right?”

Yachi’s gaze raked up a long set of legs clad in purple plaid, and then a purple trimmed white blazer, and then to their owner. “Ushijima-san!”

Ushijima’s brows knit as he studied her. “Do I know you?”

“Yes. No. Sort of.” Yachi’s cheeks burned. “We’ve, um, encountered one another through mutual acquaintances,” she explained, “but I’m sure you were paying more attention to Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun.”

The mention of the freak first year duo that helped bring down perennial powerhouse Shiratorizawa, Ushijima’s jaw clenched. “I recall.” However, the tightness in his expression quickly melted back into its usual passive mask, and he knelt next to her. “I assume this mess wasn’t your doing.”

She shook her head. “Some hoodlums come in every once in a while and wreck the shop. I can’t stand to see Komida-san clean it up by himself, so I help as much as I can.”

Ushijima glowered at the haphazard pile of writing implements. “Someone did this on purpose?” He shot to his feet and stalked away. 

Yachi jumped when he returned with half a dozen shopping baskets and began sorting through the devastation with quick hands and his mouth a tight slash of concentration. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the best volleyball player in Miyagi and probably the largest person she had ever met, was helping her clean up Komida’s shop without being asked.

It took two hours, but after a lot of work and dust, the stationery shop was restored to a semblance of order. The shelves were not as pristine as they usually were, but things were more or less where they should have been. Komida would have a lot of work to do the following day, but at least it was doable.

It was almost dark by the time they completed damage control, and it was already past closing. Komida flipped the sign with a sigh and rushed over to where Yachi and Ushijima were returning baskets to their stack by the door.

Bowing deeply, he said, “I can’t thank both of you enough.”

Ushijima offered a handshake and what Yachi assumed was a polite smile, though it looked more like a scowl. “I’m happy to help. By the way, my name is Ushijima Wakatoshi.” He looked around and scratched his chin. “I don’t suppose I can still buy a box of pencils, can I?”

“Absolutely not!” Komida ushered them over to the writing aisle and gestured at their laborious relief effort. “You can have them, though.”

“Are you sure?” Ushijima grabbed a box of Ticonderoga #2 pencils from their peg, a smile that was  _ definitely  _ a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “This is the only place nearby I can get these. They’re my favorite ones to draw with.”

Komida beamed and took another pack from the peg, depositing it into Ushijima’s massive hands. “Then by all means, take two.”

A grin morphed Ushijima’s entire being. “Thank you, Komida-san. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

“That makes two of us, young man.” Komida brushed some dust from the knees of his trousers and glanced over toward the door. “I wish all the students from your school were as well behaved.”

Ushijima’s eyes narrowed. “The ones who did this were from Shiratorizawa?”

Komida nodded. “I’m sorry to say, but yes, they were. Usually the Shiratorizawa kids are well behaved.”

“What can you tell me about them?” Ushijima asked flatly.

With a yelp, Komida rattled off descriptions of two boys, which Yachi noted with relief didn’t match any of Ushijima’s teammates she could recall. Once he was finished, Ushijima was frowning deeply. “I think I know who it is. I’ll take care it.”

“Oh my, Ushijima-kun, you certainly don’t need to do that!” cried Komida. “They might be dangerous.”

Ushijima harrumphed. “If they are who I think they are, that’s unlikely.” 

Komida didn’t object further, but Yachi could see the concern marring his usually kind features. However, with the almost frightening resolve emanating from Ushijima, Yachi couldn’t help but stand up straighter at the prospect of Komida’s problems with these horrible delinquents coming to an end.

Outside, Ushijima glanced from one end of the street to the other and frowned. “Yachi-san, would you mind if I walked you home?”

Yachi’s eyes grew wide, and she gaped at Ushijima, who waited expectantly for her reply. Finally, she squeaked, “You don’t have to do that!”

“I’m aware of that.” Ushijima’s head quirked to the side. “I’m sorry to impose, but I will sleep better tonight if I know you didn’t walk home in the dark alone.” With a bow, he said, “Please forgive my selfish request.”

The breath raced out of Yachi’s lungs, and it took all her strength to keep from reaching out with her trembling hand to pat down a tousled lock of hair sticking out from the top of Ushijima’s head. 

Seeing someone so strong and solid with that little sprig of disorder on his being brought a smile to her lips. “I’d like that, Ushijima-san.”

He offered his arm, and Yachi accepted it. She sagged in relief when Ushijima throttled his long strides so she didn’t have to run to keep up.

Outside her apartment building, Ushijima nodded to her. “Thank you for putting up with me, Yachi-san.”

“No trouble at all.” Her voice ramped up half an octave, and she felt the heat radiating from her cheeks. “Good night, Ushijima-san.”

“Good night, Yachi-san.”

Yachi slipped into the lobby and raced up the stairs, her heart already beating fast before she took the first step. Inside the apartment, she darted over to the open window. Outside, Ushijima still stood on the front walk. 

Ushijima looked up and saw her, and he offered a nod before he headed off into the night.

“Hitoka, what on earth are you doing?” Madoka murmured from the kitchen table, which was strewn with papers but in her own disorderly form of organization. 

Yachi sat at the other end of the table and recapped the open highlighter on a stack of sales projections. “Oh, someone I know walked me home.”

Madoka’s hands froze. “Oh?” She dropped her pen and flashed her daughter a sly grin. “Might this be a person of the boy persuasion?”

Yachi hid her face behind her hands, which was all the answer her mother would need. “It was dark.”

“Relax, honey.” Resuming her work, Madoka chuckled under her breath. “If you want to spend time with boys, that’s okay. I know you’re smart enough to pick a good one.”

It took Yachi’s every scrap of self control to walk away from the table and not run. Once she was in her room, she dropped onto her bed spread-eagle and closed her eyes.

Her mother thought she had a crush on Ushijima. The part that made her want to tuck her head under her pillow was that she could possibly have been correct.

  
  


The next day, once she procured Shimizu’s promise to cover the manager duties at practice, Yachi sped out of Karasuno High School like her skirt was on fire and headed straight for Komida’s shop. 

Inside, Komida waved at her. “Hitoka-chan, it’s good to see you again!”

Yachi looked around, relieved to see the shop was almost completely set to rights again. “Yes, Komida-san, I’m glad to be normal.” With a cringe, she amended, “I’m glad  _ things _ are back to normal.”

“Indeed they are.” Komida bustled around the counter and held up a packet of Hello Kitty highlighters. “These just came in. I know how much you love Kitty-chan, so I want to give them to you.”

Jaw sagging open, Yachi held the package of lozenge shaped highlighters, with Kitty’s bows the same color as the ink inside. “Komida-san, thank you so much!” She clutched them to her chest and bowed. “You’re so nice! They’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ll treasure them forever!”

Komida guffawed and patted her shoulder. “I’m glad you like them. I —”

The bell above the door clamored, and both of them turned to see who was entering. Yachi’s breath hitched when Ushijima swept in with a small group of people in tow, all in Shiratorizawa uniforms. Two of them, tall like Ushijima but to a lesser extreme, held onto a pair of boys with an iron grip.

Ushijima turned to Komida. “Are these the ones who have been causing you trouble?”

Eyes wide and staring, Komida nodded woodenly, and Ushijima’s cohorts, both of whom Yachi recognized as members of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team, tightened their grips on their detainees.

“Busted,” the red-headed one sing-songed. “What shall we do with these dastardly fellows, Wakatoshi-kun?”

Ushijima raised a brow to Komida. “Do you have a preference?”

“Nobody has been hurt, so as long as it doesn’t happen again, I think that will do.”

Ushijima’s other teammate, who had dark skin and hair, shook his captive. “It’s certainly more than you deserve.”

“Agreed,” Ushijima grumbled. His gaze flitted back and forth between Komida and the hoodlums. “Are you sure you want to just let them go, Komida-san?”

Komida sighed. “I don’t want the police involved. No use ruining these boys’ lives because they knocked over a few shelves.”

Yachi glowered at them, anger roiling in her belly. She didn’t care about giving her afternoon to help Komida clean up; she DID care that they seemed like they would get away with it.

An idea sparked, and she smirked. “No need to call the police. I can think of something a lot scarier than getting arrested.” All eyes fell on her. “Let’s call their moms.”

The lanky-haired goon in the redhead’s custody blanched. “Please, no, she’ll kill me!” 

“Good.” Yachi stormed over to the boy and kicked him in the shin, eliciting a howl of pain. “Pick on someone your own size.” Ushijima coughed to stifle a laugh, but his compatriots had no such qualms, and their captives shriveled. With a bob of her head, Yachi stepped back and crossed her arms. “Well, Ushijima-san, they’re all yours.”

“As you wish.” Ushijima approached them with heavy footsteps, his crossed arms making him look impossibly wide and long legs impossibly tall. Towering over the who boys, who Yachi could see shaking even from a few meters away, he growled, “Leave. Now. Do not come back, or the next time I see you, I’ll be unhappy.” 

Ushijima leaned in closer and added quietly, “ _ Very _ unhappy.” His comrades released the delinquents, and the two of them barreled out of the store and into the distance as fast as their feet could carry them.

The trio of volleyball players eyed each other and laughed. “I’m glad you’re on our side, Wakatoshi.” 

“You can say that again,” said the redheaded one with a chortle. “You’re a scary guy when you want to be, Wakatoshi-kun.”

Brushing off their comments, Ushijima turned his attention back to Komida. “I apologize that students from our school behaved in such a shameful way, but I believe that will be the end of those two. Just in case, I’ll stop by every once in a while to make sure they haven’t come back.”

Komida emphatically shook Ushijima’s hand with tears in his eyes. “You are a marvelous young man, Ushijima-kun.” He did the same for both of Ushijima’s comrades. “And you boys, too. You gentlemen do your school proud.” 

“Thank you, sir.” The darker one returned the handshake with a sheepish smile. “By the way, my name is Oohira Reon, and I’ve always loved this shop. I was happy to help keep it such a nice place.”

The redhead elbowed Oohira out of the way and smiled ear to ear. “And I’m Tendou Satori. I tend to haunt the culinary supply store next door, but I’m happy to be a good neighbor.”

Tendou’s gaze slid over to Yachi, who watched these gargantuan teenage boys with awe, laced with a vein of amusement.. “Oh, you must be Yachi-san.” He bowed deeply with a broad smile that made Yachi shiver. “Wakatoshi was right, you  _ are  _ cute.”

Oohira smacked Tendou’s shoulder and hissed, “Knock it off, dude. What’s wrong with you!” 

Yachi hardly heard the statement. Her attention was glued to Ushijima, who was looking anywhere but at her after Tendou’s statement.

Ushijima thought she was cute — enough so to tell his friends. She slapped her hands over her face and whined, “Oh my god.”

Tendou and Oohira slipped out conspicuously, and Komida was grinning. “I have some, uh, inventory to do, if you’ll excuse me,” he said before he rushed off to the back room, leaving Yachi and Ushijima alone at the front of the store.

“I’m sorry, Yachi-san. I didn’t mean that.”

Her smile melting, Yachi stared down at her feet. “So you  _ don’t _ think I’m cute?”

“No! Yes!” Ushijima tucked a finger under Yachi’s chin and brought her gaze up to meet his. “I didn’t plan on saying anything, but yes, I find you attractive.”

Yachi’s belly fluttered at the sensation of Ushijima’s rough, hard hands on her skin. He was touching her, and his attention was solely on her. This boy, who was magnificent as a marble statue from head to toe, thought she was cute, and she couldn’t squelch the stupid grin that climbed up her cheeks until it reached her eyes. “You’re easy on the eyes yourself, Ushijima-san.”

Ushijima’s brows shot up almost to his hairline, eyes wide. His mouth hung open and snapped shut when no words came out. Yachi relished the rush of being able to make someone like Ushijima speechless with a few words.

Finally, Ushijima murmured, “Might we continue this conversation elsewhere?”

Looping her arms around Ushijima’s, Yachi tugged him toward the exit. “I’d like that a lot.”

The sun was just a little bit brighter and the scent of early spring air a little sweeter as the two of them meandered over to a nearby walking park. They followed a sun-dappled trail into the heart of the park, where Yachi tugged them to a stop. “Oh, I love these!”

She pointed at the rainbowed beds of tulips surrounding a white gazebo. “Isn’t it lovely?”

Ushijima nodded. “Tulips are one of my favorites.” He squatted to stroke one of the delicate petals. “So fragile, but always worth the effort. They’ll grow almost anywhere if you treat them right.”

“You really like flowers, don’t you, Ushijima-san?”

“I like a lot of things that make the world a better place.” He stood and offered Yachi his arm again. “Shall we?”

Yachi’s legs were liquid beneath her as she watched this beefy giant treat a flower with such tender care. It wasn’t surprising coming from the boy who helped a complete stranger for hours on end to clean up a mess that wasn’t his, but it didn’t affect her any less knowing that. “I, uh, can we, you know . . . sit down for a bit?” she croaked. 

“Of course.” He led her into the gazebo, where an ornate iron bench sat waiting for them. Before she could sit, he pulled off his jacket and covered the cold metal. 

She sat gratefully. “I appreciate that.” 

He sat down a hand’s breadth away from her, but a wild strand of impulse made her scoot closer to him, the soft cotton of his shirtsleeves brushing her cheek. His arm grew against her. “Yachi-san, are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you cold?”

“Just a little.” Ushijima gazed down at her blankly, the confusion rousting a smile from Yachi. “Are  _ you _ okay?”

“Yes.”

“Cold?”

“No.” He relaxed under her touch and even leaned into it. “I was just surprised. I’m not used to spending time with girls. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react.”

His earnest concern sends Yachi’s heart stuttering in her chest. She stood, taking Ushijima’s hands into hers. Their eyes were closer than they ever had been before, and her throat tightened at the sight of the flecks of green and gold in his irises.

“I don’t know how to talk to girls either, Ushijima-san.” She stepped closer, standing between his legs, near enough to take in the warmth emanating from him. With a giggle, she hovered closer. “I don’t make you nervous, do I?”

Ushijima shook his head. “No. I make myself nervous. I don’t wish to scare you. I’m not good at being so . . . reserved.”

“Then don’t be.” She reached up and framed his face in her hands. “I’m scared of plenty of things: creatures with more than four legs or less than two, clowns, strange closets, heights, and airplanes.” Her thumb dragged across the soft skin under his eyes, a contrast to the solid line of his jaw. “Even with all that, how could I get scared by someone who touches a flower with such care, even if he might actually be able to flip a car if he wanted to.”

A smile twitched on Ushijima’s lips, and Yachi’s eyes widened. “Wait, can you?”

“Flip a car? I’ve never tried, but I assume not.” 

Neither of them budged, Yachi’s hand still resting on Ushijima’s cheek. It took a moment for her to realize that he was waiting for her to make the next move. 

For all his strength and intimidating size, Ushijima Wakatoshi might have been one of the gentlest people she had ever met.

Her fingers slid up his cheek and into his hair, far softer than it looked, and she felt the breath rush out of him against her neck. Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears, and the distant sounds of children playing in the park were washed away in the current.

Yachi’s entire frame shook as she lowered her lips to his for her very first kiss.

The kiss was a lot of things — warm, damp, slightly awkward, and she didn’t know what to do with her nose. What it was the most, though, was wonderful. His mouth brushed against hers with great care, allowing her to take the lead and draw the line wherever she wanted to stop or go.

A shriek filled the gazebo, and they ripped apart. A little boy, no more than three or four, pointed at them with big, teary eyes. “Mama, mama, they’re biting each other!”

A woman rushed up, but one glance at the two of them and she burst into laughter. “No, sweetie, they’re not.” She picked up her child and stuffed him under her arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” they said in unison, and as quick as it began, the interruption was gone.

Yachi pulled her sweater over her face and whimpered. “That’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Ushijima chuckled. “I’ve had worse. It’s part of dorm life.” He stood and tossed his jacket over one arm and offered the other to Yachi. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Yachi melted into Ushijima’s side as they meandered through more of the park, in no particular hurry to be anywhere else but together.


End file.
